For reasons I’d rather not disclose, but numero one’oh is detailed below:

Anyway, I grew weary of reading about how much Jesus loves me, how I need to say ‘amen’ if I agree all the time. (They never tell ya what exactly to say when you do NOT agree), et cetera, et al. So… I just say what I feel, which generally gets me into trouble.

So.. I said some evil things.

Have since apologized.

Been offered a promise of a promise back in Iraq (rhymes, don’t it?)

I will go there.

In’shall’allah

–Peace

(Lance)

The point of this post is thus:

I am back on FB; for whatever good that might mean. (or not mean)

-L

“Is one the moon, Dear Clown, tied to a string for me?”

(He tried, but he could not get it down)

And yes: I have been in – love with Joni Mitchell for neigh onto forty year here.

I killed this post. Probably because it did not ring ‘true’ (even though it was). Anyway, I brought it back, if for nothing else, my own edification.

(And of course, because I love Sheryl Crow. And of course, as a vain writer, I just cannot cotton to killing my own words, once written. Hahahaha! Writers, y’all know what I mean.)

Please Bare er, ‘bear’… with me on this one Y’all.

***

Time always makes things (memories) better. This is how I cope. As for me and Shonnie, memories are multiplied–super-sized, if you will. The words I wrote of our relationship are all too true. I do hope she never reads those words, as neither she nor I are strong enough to re-live those heady days. This is how life is. One is young once, (and older more than twice) and youth does stupid shit based upon that ‘youth’, and then, if lucky, one has a chance for redemption later in life.

(Not religious redemption: human redemption)I don’t apologize for my youthful indiscretions. They belong to me alone. I will carry.If anyone has in their head after reading my story of Lance and Shonnie, that I did not truly love her, that I allowed her to set me free for my own self-preservation, that I did not want to fight for her, then you may want to go back and read between the lines.

And with that ‘mini-rant’ spotlight shined into my soul, I leave you with this idealized and fantasized version of what Shonnie meant to me.

(Ms Shonnie’s part played and well-acted by Sheryl Crow.) And as good as Sheryl is, she could never be as good to me as was Shonnie. Ever. (But, I’d grant her an audition, none-the-less)And it shames me now to admit this but I was, back then, not strong enough to be her man.

If you are new here and confused, here is the beginning of this little story:Shonnie

Like this:

Sometime shortly after I mustered out of the U.S. Navy… I found me suddenly in need of a car, a vehicle, a mode of transport, fuckin’ wheels. Never really havin’ given two shits ‘bout such, I found myself in front of a pawn shop in Honey Grove Texas early one morning. Too early, in fact.

But, I skip ahead (as is my wont)

Let us go back in time (just a few hours; be patient) I had fallen ‘in love’ with a woman (It happens) Got drunk one late night; decided I needed counsel (from Peanut—My Yoda—problem was, I was in Commerce, Texas and Yoda was in Honey Grove, miles and miles and styles away) What to do? Drive to see him on Endor. Jumped into my chariot and almost made it. Alas! A bar ditch jumped up in front of me. The car did not survive. Happily, I did, but now I had a real problem: Yoda was still miles away. Walked the two miles to HG and spied a vehicle “For Sale” Walked in to the pawn shop and inquired: “Yall take credit cards?” “No Son; we do not.” “Damn shame,” I said. “’Cause I wanna buy that car y’all got for sale out yonder. Well see ya.” “Wait! Wait! We can make an exception!” “OK, gas her up and get her ready.”